


Redhead

by EvenFaust



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvenFaust/pseuds/EvenFaust
Summary: On that dreadful morning, Meeks tried to soothe Todd with four words: "You can't explain it." Maybe he's speaking from prior experience. Maybe Steven Meeks has felt the wave of grief wash over him in more ways than one.





	Redhead

**Author's Note:**

> Check out Redhead on Fanfiction.net under pointlessmonster!

The walk from Mr. Nolan's office was quiet, frigid, and all too fast. Vermont's bone-chilling snow practically froze Meeks's hands, yet he felt anything but the cold nipping at his fingers.

Winter had brought an onslaught of problems that seemed to occupy every corner of his mind. Neil's wake had been two days ago and Nolan had called all the remaining Poets into his office an hour ago. Now he wondered what Neil would want him to do. What Charlie would order him to do? What would happen to Mr. Keating? What had he done?

All his anxieties refused to stop as he climbed those once joyous stairs. He hears Knox and Todd's doors open in the corridor as he enters with Hager. A small part of him wanted to wait in the hall after Hager had gone with Knox and slam himself against Cameron's door. Plead with him, beg him, to take back all he confessed and call every testament a lie. His blood boiled with the kind of passion Keating had permanently instilled. Alas, logic won in the end as the redhead trudged to his dorm. 

Pitts sat on the edge of his bed, staring out their cool, foggy window, deep in thought. He barely acknowledged Meeks. He's barely acknowledged anyone these past few days. His engaged gaze was now hazy. He kept his eyes down and back slouched. Now that he thought of about it more, none of the Poets were themselves, especially Todd.

"Meeks?" Anderson's soft voice had been nothing but a whisper.

"Go away. I have to study." An excuse.

"What happened to Nuwanda?"

"Expelled." The word stabbed at his throat.

"What'd you say to them?"

"Nothing they didn't already know." Meeks heard the wooden floor shift and creak outside his door .

His bed let out a high-pitched creek under him as he flopped down. He stared at his low-hanging ceiling, in an instant, it seemed worlds away.

God dammit, he thought. He didn't know who to blame. Mr. Perry was the first person that came to mind. Cameron was a close second. But Nolan, Nolan brought down the hammer that pinned them to the wall that Keating freed them from.

Hearing that Neil's death was no one's fault was as disheartening as hearing Brian's death was a long time coming. Neither were true, he believed.

How he wished for evening study groups and weekend cave meetings. When all he had to worry over were his grades, his friends, and his little gadget. When he was content with what he had. Now he isn't so sure what he has. He held a desire to turn back time. When death seemed a bit less complicated.


End file.
